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Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe of the rights of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy or any other copyright holders of Angel.
Stopped
by The Brat Queen
Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.
Rated: PG
Summary: The gang fights a demon in the hours before Angel's day takes a turn for the worse.
Dedicated to: Gairid, who politely asked when the next installment was coming.
Previously, on the Epiphany series: Angel found out that the Host couldn't tell him why Wesley didn't break the curse. Back at the Hyperion, Spike paid an unexpected call. But before that, Angel helped dispatch a demon out of Cordy's vision. Herein lies Wes's version of events.
"I need a bigger sword," Angel said, stumbling backwards and out of the way of a swipe of heavily-barbed tail. He stared at the remains of the weapon in his hand, snapped in two by a single bite from the S'nrioad demon. "Much bigger."
"Told you we should've stocked up before we came here," Gunn said. He shot an accusing look in Cordy's direction, then drove his axe into the demon's leg, ducking from a spray of blood and the quickly following mouth of the demon's left head.
"Hey," Cordy said, "It's not my fault my visions don't have a scale saying 'one inch equals Oh my God' on them!"
"We've got more important things to worry about right now," Wesley reminded them all. He aimed his crossbow at one of the demon's eyes, praying the bolt would do some good when it hit home. "What does the parchment say, Cordy?"
From behind the mass of talons, barbs, teeth and even tentacles, Wesley could see Cordelia roll her eyes. "I don't know!" she said. "I don't speak gibberish!"
"It's Miwhvish," Wesley corrected her. He fired his crossbow, then moved behind a cement column to reload. "What does it look like?"
"What?"
Wesley sighed. He watched as Angel freed a steel beam from one of the abandoned factory's windows and did his best to distract the demon while Gunn continued to hack at it with his axe. "The pictures, Cordy. Tell me what the pictures are!"
"Oh," Cordy said. She crawled along the floor and hid behind some boxes. "Um. Bird-like thing, Clam-like thing. Circle, circle, squiggle."
Wesley fired off another shot, glad when the demon gave out an almost musical cry and shied away from Angel. "What kind of a squiggle?"
"Squiggle!" Cordy said. "They don't have kinds!"
"Vertical or horizontal?" Wesley prompted.
"Um - vertical!"
Wesley paused, running the translation in his head. "Cordelia, I highly doubt that the way to defeat this demon is by throwing ice cream at it!"
"How would you know?" Cordy demanded.
"For starters the Mwihvians lived one thousand years before the invention of the process!" Wesley shouted back.
"Guys," Gunn interrupted. "Can we have this Iron Chef moment some other time? Trying to kill a demon here."
"I'm doing the best I can without being able to see the document in question," Wesley replied.
"Not my fault I found the right alter-thingy to pull it out of," Cordy said, then squealed as the demon's tail lashed out and crushed the boxes in front of her in an explosion of splinters. She quickly ran behind another stack. "You want it, come get it!"
Wesley started to get up, but suddenly found Angel in front of him.
His lover gave him a quick look. "I'm on it."
Then, in a burst of speed only a vampire could have managed, Angel fought his way across the room, knocking tentacles out of his way and even running over the demon's neck in order to get to Cordy. Once there, he grabbed the parchment out of her hands, stabbed the broken half of his sword into the still-flailing tail and managed to make his way back.
"That help?" Angel asked, handing over the parchment, then turning quickly and instinctively to use the steel beam to block one of the demon's taloned claws.
Wesley brought his crossbow up and shot the claw away. "Yes, thank you."
Angel flashed him a grin, then returned to the melee.
Bird, clam, circle… Wesley sighed, coming to the squiggle in question and seeing the mark that was beside it. With a patience born of he knew not what, he turned the parchment over and began again.
Gods, salvation, winter, crying…
"The sprinkler system!" Wesley called, out, putting the parchment down and reloading his crossbow once more. "Water will break the spell which summoned it. Then we can chop its heads off."
"I had to wear the leather coat today," Angel muttered. He turned in a swift arc and threw the metal beam towards the pipes that crisscrossed the ceiling, bursting the one above him at the same moment that Wesley's bolt rang home in yet another. The demon let out a scream of pain as the water pelted down.
"Now that's more like it," Gunn said. With a few strikes of his axe he managed to decapitate the demon. He then threw his weapon over to Angel who finished it off with a single blow.
They all stared at the bloody heap that had once been their adversary.
"You know, there's just not enough beeswax to fix this," Angel said, looking at the water damage on his coat sleeve.
"Excellent teamwork, everyone," Wesley tried to give them all what he hoped was a supporting and approving look. "Well done."
"Just had to run out of mink oil this week," Angel continued, unphased by - or perhaps entirely unaware of - the fact that none of them paid any heed.
"You feeling better?" Gunn asked Cordy.
She nodded, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Yeah. No more headache or blinding urge to stab myself to death with a fork. I think that did it."
Wesley moved over to Angel, holding the parchment out for him to see. "Who on earth would try a spell of summoning like this?"
Angel gestured towards the alter that Cordelia had discovered during the battle. "Looks like amateurs. Half that stuff's not even real. The runes make no sense and that's nothing but rat's blood. Probably got it out of some lab."
Wesley nodded. "Burgeoning spellcasters who got in over their heads?"
"Most likely."
"We done here?" Gunn asked.
"I believe so," Wesley said. He folded the parchment up and slipped it into his coat pocket. "Let's take this back to the office for safekeeping. And if we have a chance, I'd like to make some calls to the local magic shops in the area - see if they've had any new clients purchasing things above their level. If nothing else, we can warn them of the possible danger."
"Yet another bout of demon fighting end with phone calls and me making coffee," Cordy said. "All part of the glamorous life of a working actress-slash-detective agency office manager."
"You need me for that?" Angel asked. He looked at Wesley. "I was thinking of going back to the hotel."
"Of course," Wesley said. He looked at his watch. "In fact, given the hour I think you should. Wouldn't do to have my best employee turned into ash."
Gunn snorted. "You know, I can still hear you, Wes."
Wesley felt a blush sneak across his face. He ducked his head a little to hide it, then spoke for Angel's ears alone. "In fact, if you'd care I could - "
"You don't have to." The look on Angel's face showed how immediately he regretted the words. "I mean - yeah. Later. If you'd like."
"Later?" Wesley repeated, uncertainly.
"Around lunch?" Angel tried to look reassuring. "I'll even - um - cook. Or - or we could order in."
"Whatever's most convenient," Wesley heard himself reply.
"Good," Angel said. He saw the others looking at him but did not meet their eyes. "Good. I'll - I'll see you then."
"Okay, what was that about?" Cordy asked, when Angel was long out of earshot. "Aren't we letting him date you so he doesn't do the alone and broody thing? Because if he's back on that again -"
"It's been a difficult time," Wesley said. He gathered up his crossbow then began walking towards the outside, hoping the others would follow.
"You okay?" Gunn asked.
"Yes," Wesley replied. Then, to them both he explained. "Vampires and mortals… there's a period of adjustment."
"Do I need to be kicking anybody's ass?" Gunn hefted his axe for emphasis.
"No," Wesley said. "Honestly it's - it's just a matter of time."
"Before what?"
Wesley looked back in Angel's direction. "I'm not sure."
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